I don’t know who this Murphy guy is, but if he knows what’s good for him, he will stay as far away from me as possible…because after the day I’ve had, I would like nothing better than to kick his ass!

I looked up Murphy’s Law online.  There are a few variations, and some in-depth descriptions, but at its core, Murphy’s Law states that, “Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.”  

Who knew anything would really be everything?

All three of our cars suffered catastrophic failure this weekend. CATASTROPHIC! As in two blown tires on the Kia, (yes, two because one would have, apparently, been too cliche for Murphy and his sick brand of humor…and far too easily resolved with the included spare.) The transmission pan (whatever this may be) cracked and leaked on the daughter’s Mercury (stranding her in Atlanta all weekend.) And the U-joint in the truck (again, I don’t speak car, so I have no idea what this is or why we need it) broke and needs to be repaired. Of course, the parts for all three vehicles (yes, even the tires for my stupid Kia Soul sport) have to be special ordered and won’t be in until tomorrow.

So, I would suggest Mr. Murphy buy a ticket to some far off destination and hang out there until I calm down. You just don’t mess with a PMSing woman who can’t drive anyone anywhere but crazy!

And that is just a fact.

Until the next time…I’ll be hunkering down, waiting for parts.